Last week I got notice that one of my high school teachers, Bob Anacker, passed away at 77 after a long bout with cancer. He was not someone I kept in contact with since I graduated, but I am writing this today because the impact he made on my life was far from insignificant.

They don’t make them like Mr. Anacker anymore. He was physically imposing as only a semi-pro football lineman could be. There are not many science teachers who stand 6-6 and weigh north of 280 pounds. He had a loud, booming voice which was not tolerant of mistakes in the classroom or on the football field and it thundered when he got mad. Ask me how I know.

As mad as he got at me for a multitude of sins I committed during my largely unremarkable football career at Kalama High School, I rest easier knowing that unlike my only begotten sister, I never set fire to the lab during a botched chemistry experiment. So at least I have that going for me…

I remember him once bellowing at me one day at practice… “McCrary!!! The only thing slower than your first step is your second and third!” I would love to tell you he was wrong. For the record: He was not.

What I will remember more was his remarkable patience and kindness. While I was in high school I struggled with a variety of health issues. I missed a ton of school due to chronic migraines and had a host of sinus problems leading to four surgeries in a two-year span.

Mr. Anacker delivered homework to me at home on numerous occasions and attempted to explain the deep mysteries of science and equations and formulas to me – all in an effort to keep me on top of my studies and my brain engaged. Confession: I was not particularly gifted in science and equations and formulas. This kindness and patience helped me stay on course to graduate.

My long term illnesses, combined with a whiplash injury suffered late in my freshman football season essentially sidelined my athletic career, but he kept me involved with the program and I worked as an equipment manager and student athletic trainer. Learning how to tape ankles and work with student-athletes led to a four-year run of working as a student-athletic trainer at Gonzaga University. 

In many ways I owe the start of my nearly 25 years in Division I college athletics to Mr. Anacker. While I never got the chance to thank him for any of the above, I appreciate the efforts he made on my behalf. 

Thank you, Coach.

*If any of this has sparked any fond memories of your teachers and coaches from “way back in the day” I encourage you to reach out and drop them a note. It will brighten their day. Guaranteed.